First Frost (6 page)

“What did the mirror say?” Bianca asked.

“Across the world,
The man you seek,
In another realm
His language you cannot speak.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sure. It could mean he’s in another world altogether, or he’s now part of the animal kingdom, which technically is a different realm because animals abide from different rules than humans do. I just don’t know.”

“Why is the mirror so cryptic? Why can’t it just say what it means? Why can’t it say ‘Hey, your father is in Yellow Stone Park next to the maple tree’ or something like that?” Bianca asked angrily.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve been asking that mirror questions my whole life, and it’s never given me a straight answer.”

“Well, it sucks.” Bianca pouted as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“It’s better than nothing.”

Bianca wondered how she would feel if the love of her life had been transformed into a bear and then, on top of that, vanished.

Devastated.
That was the only word that came to mind.

Bianca lifted her gaze to ask Rose another question and saw that her mother was in tears.

“Oh, Mom.” Bianca walked up to her and hugged her. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Rose sobbed and covered her mouth as though wanting to take back the sound that escaped her lips.

“Mom, don’t cry. Please stop crying.”

Rose shook her head and dried her tears from her bloodshot eyes. “I think about that night every single day.”

“We’ll find him, Mom. Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” Bianca said, trying to comfort her.

“It’s been ten years. For all I know, he’s probably dead,” Rose whispered.

“We’ll find him,” Bianca repeated the words in a louder voice. She was fiercely determined to make this statement come true—no matter what. She had no idea how she was going to find her father, but she would do everything she could.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Rose said between tears.

“Yeah…me too.”

Rose wiped her cheeks and tried pull herself together. She took a deep breath and said, “Come on, let’s practice a little more, and then I’ll make us some lunch.”

“Okay,” Bianca said with a nod.

They stayed down in the basement for several hours, practicing magic spells, creating fireballs and other defensive spells. Bianca learned how to shield herself from another witch’s magic. Even though Bianca wasn’t running or doing any type of obvious physical labor, she was drenched with sweat by the time they were done for the day.

Chapter Five

At eight o’clock in the morning on Tuesday, mother and daughter opened the doors at the museum. Bianca’s life had been altered in one day. She was glad she had all day Monday to sit and let everything sink in. It was hard for her to look at the items in the museum the same way. Would putting on Cinderella’s glass slipper make her want to dance? Would pricking her finger on the spinning wheel cause her to go to sleep for one hundred years? What about Snow White’s apple? Was it even real? If so…was it really poisoned?

All this stuff is real
. She went from not believing in magic to being completely surrounded by every magical item known (or unknown) in the fairy tale world.

Then she thought about the things in the Wicked Wing. Her ice blue eyes widened in horror as she went through the list of the items in that particular room.

The oven from
Hansel and Gretel
.

The spinning wheel from
Sleeping Beauty
.

The Red Dancing Shoes.

Another spinning wheel from
Rumplestiltskin
, the one he used to turn the straw into gold.

A golden cage with a fake nightingale inside; it was the one from the story
Jorinde and Joringel
.

The evil queen’s magic mirror.
What is that thing even doing on display?
Bianca wondered as she walked past it.

Oh, my God! Those things are real!
Bianca tried not to freak out in the middle of the museum while there were people roaming around. She plastered a big fake smile on her face as she walked around the museum in search for her mother. She checked the gift shop—not there. She went upstairs, hoping Rose would be in her office.

“Not here,” she muttered as she opened the door and found the chair behind her desk empty. Her face hurt from smiling so much. She rubbed her cheeks as she walked down the stairs. She let out a sigh of relief when she found her mother in the art gallery. She was struggling with a twenty-four by thirty-six frame with a painting of a mermaid lovingly gazing at an unconscious sailor. It was all done in pencil and a series of blue and green markers. Bianca was always blown away with the art that had been collected in this room. A lot of the paintings in the gallery were done by local artists. And some of the artwork was reprints of famous illustrations from popular artists like Arthur Rackham, W. Heath Robinson, and John Tenniel.

“Mom?” she whispered.

“Yes?” Rose grunted as she balanced the heavy frame in her hands.

“This stuff is real.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied as she looked behind the frame and tried to line up the wire hanger to the nail on the wall.

“No…Mom. I mean…this is
real
,” Bianca repeated her words slowly.

“Ah, I see where this is going.” Rose smiled. She carefully let go of the frame and stepped back to make sure it was straight. “Don’t worry, a lot of this stuff is harmless, but maybe I’ll give you the unofficial tour once we’re closed.”

“That would be great.”

“Does it look straight to you?” Rose asked.

Bianca tilted her head left and right as she studied the newly framed piece of art. “It looks good to me,” she replied.

“Works for me.”

At six o’clock, they closed the doors of the museum. They went through their usual routine and made sure they didn’t have any stowaways in the building.

“I’ll be right back. I gotta grab something from my office,” Rose said.

“Okeydokey.”

When Rose returned she had a large brown leather book in her hands. Together, they went into the Snow White Room. They stood in front of a portrait of Snow White. Bianca studied the painting. Snow White stared back at Bianca with indigo colored eyes and the ghost of a smile, as though she had just told the artist a dirty joke and was doing everything she could to remain composed.

Rose took a deep breath and whispered, “This is harder than I thought.”

“Are you okay?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah…I’m okay. I just…I always expected your father to be here when the time came to tell you about your family history.”

Bianca teared up at the mention of her father. She wasn’t sure she could get used to talking about her father as though it were perfectly normal to do so.

She looked at her beautiful mother and noticed the white hairs scattered over her bright red hair. The fine lines on the corners of her emerald green eyes. Bianca realized for the first time how
tired
Rose looked.

Has she always looked like that and I just failed to notice? Or is it that Mom is really good at hiding how she feels from everyone…even me.

Rose pulled Bianca out of her thoughts when she said, “I really need you to pay attention to everything that I say to you from this moment forward. If Lenore attacks again, I want you to be ready. I
need
you to be ready, in case I’m not around. Your grandmother killed Lenore’s mother, Gertrude, but what no one suspected was that she would throw a death curse at my mother with her dying breath.” Rose looked into Bianca’s eyes and gently said, “The good guys don’t always win.”

Bianca shuddered and took a deep breath.

“Anyway…this is your great-great-great grandmother Snow White.”

Rose and Bianca sat down on the floor in front of the portrait. Rose softly touched the edge of the book she had brought down from her office. On the cover, in Old English gold lettering, it said
Our Family
. The book also had gold edging; it was beautiful. Priceless.

“Whoa,” Bianca whispered. “May I?”

Rose handed the book to her daughter. Bianca carefully took the tome in her hands and placed it on her lap. She opened it ever so carefully. The very first page was a thick piece of tissue paper. She turned the page and hiding behind the tissue paper was Snow White. This time there wasn’t a professional portrait like the one hanging on the wall of the museum. This was a drawing done in pencil. The Snow White looking back at her was slightly older but still strong, proud and confident. The look in Snow White’s eyes told Bianca that she could do anything if she just believed in herself.

Underneath the drawing was information about her.

Snow White von Waldeck

Born January 14th, 1750 in Everafter.

Snow White married Frederic von Waldeck on October 8th, 1770 in Brussels. She bore him four children: Mason, Leonard, Grace, and Katina.

Died July 20th, 1830.

“Everafter?” Bianca asked, the confusion evident on her face.

“It’s where she’s from. Where a lot of the fairy tales you’ve read took place,” Rose explained.

“But…how?”

“Long ago people sometimes would wander into fairy rings and go to another world…almost like a portal. And sometimes fairies came into our world, steal human babies, and take them to their world to raise them as their own. Eventually there were enough humans in Everafter to populate that small world. The humans created their own kingdoms and villages, much to the fairies’ annoyance. They didn’t like the humans taking over their world, so they would often play tricks on the royals and local folk. Sometimes…with tragic endings.

“The Brothers Grimm accidentally stepped into a fairy ring and it was during their stay in Everafter that they collected all of their stories. In fact, the whole ‘and they lived happily ever after’ is a typo. It’s supposed to be ‘and they lived happily
in
Everafter.’ Anyway, some of the people from Everafter followed the two brothers here to our world.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Snow White, obviously.” Rose pointed to the book. “Rapunzel, Jack from
Jack and the Beanstalk
, Briar Rose, and a few others.”

“But…why?”

“The fae aren’t necessarily known for their kindness, Bianca. Life in Everafter isn’t easy. The men and women who came here wanted normal and peaceful lives. Some got it…others weren’t so lucky.”

“How so?”

“Magic will follow you no matter where you are. Magic has no boundaries.”

“Is that what happened to Snow White? Magic followed her here?” Bianca studied the artist’s depiction of her ancestor.

“Yes,” Rose replied.

She suddenly felt very sad for Snow White. A lifetime of searching for peace, and she never got it. Bianca felt tears stinging her eyes…she silently cried for her. She wondered if Snow White found the peace she was looking for when she passed away…or did the magic follow her into the afterlife, too?

Bianca wiped her tears away and turned her attention back to the book. Inside the book were portraits and photographs of everyone in the family. But other than a birthday, number of children and date of death there wasn’t much more information.

“Why isn’t there more about her in the book?”

“In case it should fall into the wrong hands. We wouldn’t want anyone else knowing all of our most intimate secrets or our weaknesses,” Rose explained.

Bianca turned to the page that had Grandmother Alice’s photograph. The woman looking back at her had a hard face, almost as though she had never smiled a day in her life. Bianca made it her mission to remember the woman staring back at her. There were no pictures of Alice in her house. Her dark brown hair was gathered into a lose bun. She had thin, stern lips. Bianca marveled over the fact that her beautiful, caring mother had come out of someone who seemed so completely joyless.